


You’ll Be Like “I’m the One”

by margiela



Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, fake deep color metaphors, yes this involves a jackson wang party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-09 07:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20849615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/margiela/pseuds/margiela
Summary: The room is red.Red for danger, perhaps, reflecting the way that Wooseok’s heart has started speeding up.Or red for love, something that Wooseok doesn’t quite allow himself to associate with the feeling he gets when the other man tangles their fingers together.





	You’ll Be Like “I’m the One”

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from [pool by woodz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TIL6IrN2_n0)
> 
> this is unbeta’d bc i got tired of this whole thing when i finished writing it bye
> 
> this fic is now translated to vietnamese [here](https://jeuxdeoctobre.home.blog/2020/02/14/youll-be-like-im-the-one/amp/?__twitter_impression=true)

The lights in the room gently change from blue to purple, and the bass of the song playing on the speakers reverberates the walls. Wooseok closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, the room is a bright fuschia. 

Wooseok shifts on the bed, and his fingers lightly brush Seungyoun’s. When he looks over, Seungyoun is already looking at him. 

They stare at each other for a moment, and Wooseok allows his eyes to flit over the other mans face, taking in the dimpling of his chin, the soft slope of his nose. 

The room is red. 

Red for danger, perhaps, reflecting the way that Wooseok’s heart has started speeding up. 

Or red for love, something that Wooseok doesn’t quite allow himself to associate with the feeling he gets when the other man tangles their fingers together. Everytime Seungyoun does something like this his eyes seem to search Wooseok’s face for any sign of discomfort but there never is, because Wooseok is perfectly unreadable, as he always is. 

What the elder doesn’t know is that Wooseok’s heart soars any time the other man touches him, treasuring every brush of the lips over his forehead, the tangle of their fingers, his face buried in Seungyoun’s neck.

Wooseok squeezes the other man’s hand briefly, before turning his head to stare up at the ceiling again. 

The room is still red. 

Wooseok has learned that Seungyoun is all contradictions and that empty feeling of realizing you don’t know someone as well as you thought you did. 

The younger man doesn’t go to parties often. But when he does, he can’t help but watch the elder from across the room, with a strange, empty feeling in his stomach. Here, the elder is all bright smiles and loud laughter, yelling over thumping music, chugging from handles and flirting with anything with a heartbeat. 

He doesn’t spare Wooseok a glance. 

Or maybe he does, in the brief moment that no one is paying attention to him. 

They meet eyes from across the room, and Seungyoun’s nearly-manic grin drops, softening into something more genuine for Wooseok. 

Wooseok looks back at him, lips quirked into something like a ghost of a smile.

The younger man looks away and the moment is broken. 

Wooseok takes a long pull from whatever drink that Seungwoo had managed to force into his hands earlier and finds solace in the burn in his throat.

When he looks back, his Seungyoun is gone again, replaced with a Seungyoun that’s louder, brasher. 

His Seungyoun is softer, thoughtful, speaking only when he genuinely had something to say that didn’t fall empty and vapid. His Seungyoun is what devastates him in the best way possible, sending his heart rate into an erratic mess. 

But of course, his Seungyoun isn’t his at all. 

Wooseok is lying down, his eyes closed, not thinking about anything in particular. 

“Wooseok.” He opens his eyes. 

The room is purple. 

Wooseok turns his head to look over at Seungyoun, who is sitting at his desk in front of two monitors, headphones hanging around his neck. 

“Can you come listen to this?” Seungyoun’s voice is quiet, his eyes tired. Wooseok sits up and stretches a little, before walking the short distance to the other man. He bends down, so he is at eye level with Seungyoun, and the other man slips his headphones over Wooseok’s ears. He taps a key on his keyboard and music begins to play. 

The room is fuschia. 

He closes his eyes.

It’s dreamy. Something about the instrumental has the feeling of being muffled, like hearing one’s name being called while submerged at the bottom of a pool. Seungyoun’s voice is gentle, the emotions genuine. 

_ Kicking the curtains and kissing _

_ You lay back next to me and play my music _

_ It feels like I’m _

_ feels like I’m in heaven _

_ There’s no other place _

_ I think you are my happiness _

Wooseok wonders who makes him feel this way.

When the younger opens his eyes, Seungyoun is right there, and their faces are only centimeters apart. 

Their eyes lock, gazes unwavering, and something passes through the elder’s eyes that Wooseok can’t quite identify. He swallows thickly, forcing himself not to lower his gaze to Seungyoun’s lips. 

The room is red. 

“What do you think?” Seungyoun’s voice is softer than before, and Wooseok can feel the breath from his words flitting across his face. 

“It’s beautiful,” Wooseok replies honestly, and his words are earnest, but soft, a change from his usual unaffected tone.

Seungyoun smiles that smile, the one that makes Wooseok feel like he’s falling through the floor and flying at the same time. “Thank you.” He slips the headphones off of the younger and sets it on the desk. The younger straightens, only able to breathe properly once he wasn’t facing the other man. “Do you want to go get food?” Seungyoun asked, stretching his arms above his head. He looks over at the digital clock on his bedside table. Two in the morning. “BCD is open.”

Wooseok smiles and nods. “Starving.” 

“I know. I heard your stomach growl a few minutes ago,” Seungyoun teases, poking the younger in the side accusingly. “You should have said something.”

Wooseok rolled his eyes, walking over to the bed to grab his phone. “Didn’t want to disturb the process.”

Seungyoun snorts, slipping his wallet into the pocket of his sweatpants as he stood. “I think we both know that I have no process to speak of.” 

Wooseok covers his mouth as he laughs softly, ducking his head as he does–it’s a habit he knows Seungyoun doesn’t like very much and it shows. The elder is frowning slightly.

“Stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles,” Wooseok says with an eye roll, reaching up with his thumb to press between Seungyoun’s eyebrows and smooth the furrow there. 

The elder reaches up and takes hold of Wooseok’s wrist, lowering it between them and sliding his hand down to tangle their fingers as his apartment door shuts behind him. The lock on the door trinkles softly, signalling that it is locked. 

Wooseok thinks irrationally to himself that Seungyoun can probably feel how fast his heart is beating through their intertwined fingers and shakes himself internally for the foolishness of the thought.

In the car, the elder doesn’t let go of his hand. 

Wooseok is thrumming with nervous energy, sneaking sideways glances at the other man as he drives them to the restaurant. 

Seungyoun is relaxed, based on his demeanor. Wooseok can see the street lights reflecting off the other’s glasses. 

Wooseok forgets himself for a moment at a red light and stares at Seungyoun, quietly awed at the way the color illuminates his face. 

Seungyoun looks over and holds his gaze, mouth curling up into a soft smile, squeezing their hands. 

Wooseok smiles back but ducks his head, looking away quickly, heart racing. 

He doesn’t know what this is.

In that moment, everything is red. 

Seungyoun runs into a friend named Hangyul while they’re walking into BCD, and Wooseok smiles politely when they’re introduced.

Wooseok stands there quietly as Seungyoun and Hangyul catch up. Their voices are loud in the quiet of the night. 

He loosens his hold on the other man’s hand just in case he wants to pull away, but Seungyoun only tightens his grip. Wooseok can feel his ears get warm. 

A breeze flits around in the air and Wooseok shivers a little at the sudden gust of biting cold. 

Seungyoun glances at him and frowns before turning back to Hangyul and smoothly ending the conversation, telling the other to text him soon. He leads Wooseok inside the restaurant, only then letting go of his hand as they sat across from each other. 

“Should have said you were cold,” Seungyoun chides, then flags down a waitress so they can order. 

“I wasn’t,” Wooseok sniffs, petulant. “The breeze came out of nowhere.” 

“Uh-huh.” Seungyoun asks for hot rice tea for the two of them. 

Wooseok glares at the other man before taking a sip, only dropping it when the fragrant tea makes him feel better. Seungyoun grins smugly at him. 

Wooseok isn’t sure what’s making him more warm–the tea or Seungyoun. 

Secretly, he knows the answer. 

“You know everyone calls you the campus ice prince, right?” 

Wooseok looks up from his phone to see Seungyoun walking towards him, looking adorable and cozy with a giant scarf wrapped around his neck. He comes to a stop in front of where Wooseok is sitting, and the younger has to crane his neck up to look at him.

“You know everyone says you look homeless, right?” Wooseok says in reply, trying to keep a straight face. Seungyoun gasps, putting his hand over his heart.

“It’s called homeless chic,” Seungyoun pouted. “Dean is the king of homeless chic, hello. And if he can make it look good, I can make it look good.” He pauses. “And if I never, in my entire lifetime, get him to feature on a song because I’m a nobody, might as well steal his look.” 

Wooseok laughs quietly, covering his mouth with his hand. The other man reaches for it and pulls his hand away and holds it between them, his cold fingers intertwining with Wooseok’s. 

The younger man swallows and tries to seem unaffected, which isn’t too difficult. Just as the other said, he’s mastered the art of the icy poker face.

“So what’s this about me being the campus ice prince, hm?” Wooseok asks, before frowning. “Sit down– you’re too tall and my neck is starting to hurt.” Seungyoun lets out a soft laugh as he sits down beside the other man on the bench, keeping his hold on Wooseok’s hand. He starts playing with the younger man’s fingers.

“The usual. Hansol asked me if you ever smile,” Seungyoun replies, reaching with his free hand to poke Wooseok’s cheek. The younger swats his hand away, feeling his ears get warm. 

“I smile,” Wooseok says indignantly.

“_ I _ know that, but other people don’t,” Seungyoun replies, laughing when Wooseok huffs. The elder mimics him, huffing dramatically and repeatedly until Wooseok cracks a reluctant smile, shoving his shoulder weakly. 

“You’re so annoying,” Wooseok grumbles, before glancing at the time on his phone. “Don’t you have class in like five minutes?” 

“I do,” Seungyoun confirms, wrinkling his nose. It’s only then that he lets go of Wooseok’s hand as he stands and adjusts his backpack straps. “Don’t you have class too?” 

Wooseok nods and stands as well, slipping his phone into his pocket. 

Seungyoun wraps an arm around Wooseok’s shoulders and pulls him firmly against him in a side hug. 

The younger man feels the other’s lips against his temple.

Wooseok’s heart stutters, just like it always does, and he barely registers Seungyoun saying that he’d text him later as he walks away.

The music thumps through the room, and the walls reverberate in time with the bass. The light in the room is purple, and hasn’t changed the whole time that Wooseok and his friends have been there.

Seungwoo is talking, his voice raised in order to be heard above the music. Wooseok tries his best to pay attention, sipping idly on his third cup of the drink that the other had made for him the moment they arrived. There must be more alcohol in it than he can taste, because his head is starting to get fuzzy

Wooseok finds himself occasionally glancing at the door of the apartment they’re in, keeping an eye out for Seungyoun. 

“You know watching the door isn’t going to make him come any faster,” Seungwoo says, sounding amused, laughing when Wooseok glared at him and just gulped the rest of his drink in embarrassment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wooseok huffs, reaching up to adjust the beret that he’s wearing.

Seungwoo just smirks at him over the rim of his cup, eyes sparkling with mischief. “So what’s your guys’ deal, anyway?”

“What do you mean?” Wooseok replies, pretending as if the room hadn’t just turned ten degrees hotter and his face isn’t turning pink. “There is no deal.”

“I think we all know that isn’t true,” Seungwoo snorts, before draining the rest of his cup. 

“Who’s ‘we’?” Wooseok asks, brows raising and almost disappearing beneath his fringe. 

“Everyone,” Seungwoo replies, and Wooseok furrows his brow. “Anyone who sees you two around anywhere is always confused whether or not you’re together.” 

Wooseok looks away, trying to temper down the frustration rising in his own chest. “Good to see I’m not the only confused one.” He tightens his grip on his empty cup, crinkling the plastic audibly. He puts the cup down on a nearby table.

“Hey,” Seungwoo says, sounding concerned. “Is everything okay between you two?” 

“I mean, everything is fine. I think I’m just overthinking or something. Like, he’s always been touchy with me and like maybe it’s just a friendly thing and he does it with everyone. Or like. Maybe I’m expecting too much or reading into things or misinterpreting or–” Wooseok is rambling and he’s not sure he can blame it all on the alcohol. 

It’s almost comedic how his words die in his throat, because it is clear that the universe seems to have it out for him in the way that Seungyoun walks in while he’s still blubbering nonsense, looking gorgeous and handsome and Wooseok is just standing there with his lips parted and his eyes glazing over as he blatantly stares at the elder. 

“God,” Wooseok says dumbly, shaking himself and quickly looking away, looking anywhere else. He sees Jackson Wang getting “iced” and watches without seeing as he chugs down a Smirnoff Ice on one knee. 

Seungwoo turns to look at Seungyoun and Wooseok can see him chuckle out of the corner of his eye. He can feel his face warming up, but he doesn’t have the energy to turn his head and glare at the other man. 

“He’s gone, you can look now,” Seungwoo says, laughing behind his hand. 

“I feel like dying,” Wooseok says sadly. 

“You’re drunk,” Seungwoo says, and Wooseok shakes his head.

“Not yet, but I need to be,” Wooseok replies dejectedly. “I’ll be back.” 

Wooseok makes his way through the crowd, smiling politely when people greet him on his way to the kitchen. 

Once he reaches his destination he looks through all the alcohol on the counter, settling on a bottle of citrus Sky that he pours into a plastic cup around halfway full. He nearly drops the bottle of strawberry lemonade he’s pouring into his cup. 

Seungyoun is standing beside him, his arm around Wooseok’s waist, eyes scanning the alcohol selection. Wooseok thinks dumbly that it feels like his skin is being seared through his shirt where the elder is touching him.

“Um, hi,” Wooseok says, dumbfounded for some reason unknown to him, quickly pouring the lemonade into his cup and setting it back down on the counter where he can’t drop it.

Seungyoun looks down at him and flashes him a smile. “Hey.” 

Wooseok tries not to stare at the part of the elder’s chest that is exposed by the unbuttoned parts of his loose button down. Seungyoun’s hair is gelled out of his face, with a single piece hanging over his forehead. Wooseok wants to sweep it back, but resists the twitch in his fingers. 

“Did you just get here?” Wooseok asks, as if he hadn’t stared at him as he entered mere minutes ago. 

Seungyoun smirks knowingly down at him, and Wooseok can feel himself reddening, but refuses to look away. This version of Seungyoun is a bit bolder than the one he knows, but Wooseok refuses to let himself be too affected. 

The change in the older man at rowdy social events doesn’t take him by surprise anymore, but sometimes the difference is a little off-putting. Sometimes in the quieter moments Wooseok thinks that there isn’t a difference at all. 

“Yeah, I had some stuff I needed to do on campus before I came.” He reaches across in front of Wooseok for the bottle of Sky he had just used, getting in the younger man’s space, giving him a whiff of the cologne that he secretly loves. “You?”

“I’ve been here like an hour and a half,” Wooseok replies, taking a generous gulp from his cup, as if it would do anything to calm his heart. “You know how Byungchan is. Wants to be early so he can abandon his friends and ‘not miss anything’.” Seungyoun laughs, pouring fruit punch into his cup now. 

“I think I saw him playing rage cage with Dahyun on the balcony,” Seungyoun says, taking a sip from his cup. “Hansol, Jimin, and Nathan wanted to play pool in one of the rooms–do you want to come?” 

Wooseok raises his eyebrows, slightly surprised. 

It’s not often that Seungyoun would spend time with him at parties, as the younger likes to stay out of the action, preferring to watch from the side or just talk to the people he knows. Once Seungyoun figured that out, it was rare that they would hang around each other unless the older man paused his socializing rounds and getting into who-knows-what to chat briefly with the younger. 

“Sure,” Wooseok replies, surprised at himself for agreeing. Seungyoun smiles brightly, not having expected the other man to agree either. The elder takes Wooseok’s free hand in his own, intertwining their fingers together as he leads him through the crowd. Seungyoun nods at the people they pass by, nearly all of them greeting him. Some eye Wooseok with clear interest, looking from their joined hands and then back at Seungyoun. He tries to ignore them, opting to take a sip of his drink instead of making eye contact with anyone.

Wooseok makes eye contact with Seungwoo, who is talking to Yohan now, an amused smile on his face as he watches the pair weave through the room. 

When they reach the room where they apparently are going to play pool, it’s quieter, and Seungyoun’s friends are already there, setting up. There are a few other people in the room, milling around by the walls and talking. The music playing out in the living room is still audible, but slightly muffled through the walls.

“Wooseok, this is Hansol, Nathan, and Jimin,” Seungyoun says, introducing him to his friends. Wooseok makes it a point to smile at Hansol, not forgetting what Seungyoun told him a few weeks ago.

“Your beret is so fucking cute,” Jimin says, and Wooseok smiles at her. “I wish I could pull those off, but my head is giant.” 

“My head is giant too,” Wooseok laughs softly, “I think you’d look fine in one.” 

“Have you played pool before?” Hansol asks, as he starts handing each of them cue sticks. Wooseok shakes his head sheepishly. 

“I know the rules, but I don’t really know how to shoot properly,” Wooseok admits.

“I’ll help you,” Seungyoun says, and Wooseok smiles gratefully at him, earning a grin back. 

Jimin goes first, and Wooseok makes sure to pay attention to her stance and her form so he’s ready when it’s his turn. 

When Wooseok steps up to the table he gets into position, but his stance feels a little off, the way he’s holding the stick feels awkward. Seungyoun steps forward behind him and leans down, practically on top of the other man as he puts his own hands over Wooseok’s. 

Seungyoun’s face is right next to his, millimeters away, and if he looked over, he could kiss the other man’s cheek. Wooseok swallows thickly, and he can feel the energy in the room shift, as all eyes were on the pair. 

“You’re gonna want to have your hands in this position,” he says softly. Seungyoun uses his own hands to slide the other man’s hands down the cue stick, putting them in the correct position. 

“Okay,” Wooseok says softly, his voice coming out a hoarse whisper. 

Nathan coughs, and Wooseok can see him exchange looks with the other two. Seungyoun moves away and Wooseok hates himself for the way he immediately misses the warmth from the other man’s body.

When Wooseok finishes his turn, he straightens and steps away from the table. His urge to flee and hide is so strong, it overwhelms the fuzziness in his head from the alcohol. 

As the game goes on, Wooseok finishes his drink, effectively drowning out his fight or flight instincts. 

Whenever it’s Seungyoun’s turn, Wooseok can’t help the way he watches the other man’s face as he gets into position to shoot, eyes flitting over the concentrated expression and the way his brow furrows. At one point, Wooseok meets eyes with Jimin after tearing his gaze away from Seungyoun, ears warming at being caught staring. She gives him a knowing smile, but it’s not unkind. She’s a lot nicer than he had previously thought, only having what Seungyoun had told him about her to go off of. 

He loses, predictably, but he doesn’t mind. Seungyoun also loses, pouting and looking infuriatingly adorable as he sulks while Nathan does a dumb dance to celebrate his win. Hansol asks them if they want to play again, and Wooseok is about to shake his head no when Seungyoun says, “Nah, Wooseok and I are going to get another drink or something.”

“Are you afraid of losing again,” Wooseok teases. “Sore loser isn’t a cute look on you.” Seungyoun turns to him and sticks his tongue out, poking the younger man’s side in retaliation. 

“You’re always so mean to me,” Seungyoun complains,”all of you.” He looks reproachfully at his friends. Jimin just snorts.

“You make it so easy,” she says with an eye roll. “Now shoo and get your boyfriend another drink. The adults are playing.”

Wooseok’s eyes widen slightly, feeling his cheeks warm. His breath feels stuck in his throat, rendering him unable to correct her or say anything at all. Seungyoun doesn’t correct her either, just huffing dramatically and taking Wooseok’s hand in his and leading him out of the room. The music is loud and pounding again. 

“Do you want another drink or just water?” Seungyoun says, raising his voice to be heard over the music, looking at him over his shoulder as he weaves the two of them between all the people in the living room towards the kitchen. 

“Water!” Wooseok calls back, feeling hot and suffocated by all the people squished around him. 

When they reach the kitchen area, there’s a lot less people, and there’s room to breathe. 

Seungyoun lets go of his hand only to walk over to the fridge and pull two water bottles from it, handing one to Wooseok and keeping one for himself. Wooseok opens it and gulps the water down like he’s been parched for days, before setting it down on the counter behind him. 

There’s a strange feeling in his stomach, and it’s not from the alcohol. 

His heart also feels a bit off, beating erratically and feeling like it’s going to erupt from his chest from the feeling of being overwhelmed. He leans back against the counter, hands gripping the edge. 

“Hey, you okay?” Seungyoun says, standing in front of him now, practically caging him in. He brushes Wooseok’s fringe out of his eyes before using his fingertips to gently tilt his face up. Wooseok averts his eyes. “You look a little pale.” 

Wooseok swallows thickly, suddenly a lot more sober than he previously was. “Yeah I’m fine just–” he stops abruptly, taking a breath. He regrets meeting Seungyoun’s eyes because the way the other man is looking at him with tender concern makes his heart stall. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” 

Seungyoun’s eyes flit over Wooseok’s face, brows furrowed, before seeming to land briefly on the younger man’s lips before meeting his eyes again. Wooseok’s heart leaps into his throat. Something like nerves passes over the elder’s face, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appears. 

“Yeah, of course.” He drops his fingers from Wooseok’s chin and takes hold of one of Wooseok’s hands. “Do want to just leave? We can go back to my place. Or yours. Whatever you want.” 

Wooseok nods, jerkily. “Let’s just go to yours. It’s closer.” 

Seungyoun gives him the softest smile, chin dimpling the way Wooseok loves.

The party lights have changed color. The room is red.

The ride back to Seungyoun’s apartment is silent. They hold hands the whole way, except when Wooseok pulls out his phone to text Seungwoo that he was leaving with Seungyoun.

**From: Airplane Nose**

_ hehe let me know how it goes :-) _

**From: Elsa**

_ i hate you _

Wooseok does his best trying not to look at Seungyoun, using the car ride as time to compose himself. 

Seungyoun on the other hand, seems to not have any qualms about looking and staring at him whenever they’re stopped at red lights. Wooseok’s ears are just in a perpetual state of crimson and heat. 

When they get to Seungyoun’s apartment complex and they’ve parked the car in the basement garage, the elder leads Wooseok by the hand towards the elevators. 

Wooseok’s heart begins to beat faster because he realizes that even though he had asked to talk, he doesn’t know what it is that he wants to talk about. Or maybe he does, but he doesn’t really know how to go about it. He spends so much time going over the thoughts bouncing around his head that he doesn’t even realize they’ve arrived at Seungyoun’s apartment until he hears the gentle beep from the door unlocking after the elder punches in his code.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Seungyoun asks as he slips his shoes off and drops his keys into the bowl on a small table by the door. “More water?” 

“Yes please,” Wooseok says, slipping his own shoes off and walking into Seungyoun’s room. He flicks the colored lights on and settles himself on the end of the bed, pulling his knees up to his chest. He takes a rattling breath in an attempt to ground himself. Seungyoun comes in and joins him a moment later, setting the glass of water on the side table.

“So what’s up?” Seungyoun asks, sitting on his hands. Wooseok is secretly glad he doesn’t try to hold his hand, because he’s not sure it would be too helpful with his nerves in this moment. 

Wooseok makes an effort to look anywhere but at Seungyoun, looking as if he has suddenly taken rapt interest in the movie poster that Seungyoun has framed above his computer monitors. 

The room is blue.

Wooseok feels like he’s submerged at the bottom of a pool with the other man, with time stopped around them and the outside world muffled and far away.

“Hey,” Seungyoun says quietly, his voice soft, “it’s just me. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I think that’s the problem though, that it’s not _ just _ you. You’re not _ just _anyone,” Wooseok says, finally looking at the other man. Seungyoun’s brows furrow, and Wooseok wants nothing more than to press his fingers there like he usually does, smoothing out the creasing and tease him about getting wrinkles. He refrains this time. 

“What do you mean?” Seungyoun asks. “I’m me. You’re my best friend. I’m yours.” 

“Your mine. My what?” 

Seungyoun visibly swallows at that. “Your best friend,” he says haltingly. 

“And I’m yours?” 

Seungyoun nods jerkily, but there’s a bit of something that flashes in his eyes. Panic, maybe. 

“I’m your best friend,” Wooseok repeats, and for the first time during the conversation Seungyoun looks frustrated.

“What’s this about, Wooseok?” Seungyoun says, and there’s an edge to his voice now. He’s not looking at Wooseok anymore. He’s suddenly taken interest in the movie poster as well. “You know you’re my best friend.” 

“Is that all I am to you?” the younger man asks softly, and Seungyoun looks at him then. Wooseok doesn’t think he can read him this time. 

It feels like an eternity goes by without either of them saying anything.

The room is purple

“Wooseokie…” Seungyoun says finally, and the younger man snorts.

“We’re having a serious conversation and you’re going to ‘Wooseokie’ me?” Wooseok says, bite in his tone now. “Really?”

“What do you want me to fucking say? Do you want me to say the reason I hold your hand and kiss your forehead or do anything I can to touch you is because I’ve liked you this whole time that I’ve known you? That I’m terrified of scaring you away if I do anything more than that? That I’ve been pining after you for years and maybe even love you? Do you want me to say that I want you so badly that I can’t stand the thought of you being with anyone else?” Seungyoun says, his voice raising at he stands up and begins pacing, words laced with a type of bitterness that Wooseok hadn’t experienced before.

Wooseok’s mind whirring too quickly for him to form any coherent thoughts. 

The room is fuschia. 

“Because it’s all true. But why would I say any of that if you don’t even feel the same way? Why would I throw away the small bits that I can get from you if it might mean that I could end up with nothing and lose you altogether? _ God _, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you–”

Wooseok stands and whispers, “But I feel the same way.”

Seungyoun stops pacing and looks at him incredulously. “What.”

Wooseok swallows and looks up at the ceiling. His mouth is dry and he knows if he unclenched his hands they’d be shaking. It’s a wonder he hasn’t collapsed from how tightly his knees are locked.

“Hey,” Seungyoun says then, his voice softer now. He’s standing in front of Wooseok and it feels like electricity is crackling in the air. “Look at me. It’s okay. What did you say?”

Wooseok takes a breath and lowers his gaze to meet the other man’s. 

All at once that breath is stolen from him because there is so much hope in Seungyoun’s expression, but it’s laced with fear too and he hates himself for making the other man feel so unsure and terrified about whether or not he reciprocated Seungyoun’s feelings. 

The room is red.

“I love you,” Wooseok chokes out. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Seungyoun laughs. It’s a relieved laugh, a happy laugh. He cups Wooseok’s face with both hands and kisses him. His lips are soft and he tastes like citrus Sky and Wooseok swears he can get drunk on it. 

The elder pulls away, and even though the kiss was gentle and sweet, Wooseok feels as if his breath has been stolen from him and his heart is beating out of his chest. 

“Say it again,” Seungyoun says after a moment, looking at Wooseok with so much awe, like he’d never seen anyone like him before. 

“I love you,” Wooseok says, his gaze flitting away. He can feel his cheeks blazing. 

“Why do you keep looking away,” Seungyoun teases, and Wooseok huffs grumpily, his anxiety falling away momentarily. 

“Are you gonna say it back or are you gonna keep making me repeat myself?” Wooseok snaps, but it’s without any bite. He sounds more like a whiny kid than anything, and Seungyoun laughs that stupid laugh that Wooseok loves and it makes his own frown go away, leaving him with an exasperated expression. “Well? I’m waiting.”

“I love you too,” Seungyoun says, and he kisses Wooseok’s nose. 

For some reason that has the younger man blushing more furiously than the real kiss. He’s embarrassed, so responds in the only way he knows how

“God, you’re so gross. Get away from me,” Wooseok complains. 

Wooseok is lying on the bed with Seungyoun beside him. 

Their fingers are loosely tangled together and music is playing on the speakers, bass reverberating the walls. 

It feels as if the world is miles away and it’d just the two of them. 

Wooseok turns his head to find the older man already looking at him, and his cheeks warm as his lips twitch into a small smile. 

“Hey,” Seungyoun says, smiling so softly. The look in his eyes is so tender, and Wooseok feels overwhelmed all of the sudden, choked with emotion.

“Hey,” Wooseok whispers. 

And then they lie there in silence, just looking at each other like no one else in the world exists, like time has stopped so they can keep this moment forever. 

The room is red. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is my first fic for this fandom i hope u liked it mwah
> 
> p.s. idk where i was going with the color red thing it's kind of just there
> 
> p.s. part 2 im on twt @wlwyoun


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